You
by Ich-Bin-Eine-Dame
Summary: Arthur and Alfred at a UN meeting. Canonverse in modern times one-shot. It's just pure humour, shenanigans, and Arthur's sass. That's it. A little politics too but eh.


It was when Arthur stood in front of the UN building in New York did he realise two things. Number One- It looked like a futuristic cereal box. Number two- Alfred got far too grabby when drunk, the NATO was just proof of that. During the taxi ride Arthur glanced at the front page of some popular newspaper which exclaimed something about the NATO and Russia and troops in the Ukraine, of which Arthur knew nothing about and therefore only scarcely remembered what the page said. Just when he started reminiscing about the Cold War and thinking about how unfair it was how good Alfred looked in those stupid fifties dark framed glasses and the pressed suits he wore then, now he just started slack off in fashion, the nineties never ended in his opinion, and _goddamn_ he was insane in the 60s and so paranoid, and remember the Warsaw Pact and then the NATO and when he came to London and broke that chair and-

Something hit his back, where his shoulder blades were, which caused Arthur to fling forward slightly, losing his balance, he tore his head from the building and glanced forward with a confused expression and sharp eyes. Alfred was standing in front of him, clear as day, his tie with little stars and stripes- _So corny, oh Alfred, it's horrid but so Alfred_- that was lopsided and badly done, his glasses also lopsided and his suit badly ironed, he looked like a slop and his hair was messy but Arthur just wanted to run his hair through it. He wore a dark blue suit that complimented his eyes and hair colour and you could see his socks which were mismatched. His open tattered briefcase, which Arthur had given him sometime in the 70s when his old one must have been pre-war, was lying in his hand and the other hand stuck in his pocket. His face wore a stupid grin that was would have looked cocky if his teeth showed and his eyes seemed bright and very, very happy, which in turn made Arthur feel very, very happy.

It was needless to state that, of course.

"Alfred, you look like a slob. Also this building is disgusting, I forgot how much it looks like a fucking futuristic cereal box." Arthur said, starting to move quickly in front of Alfred making a beeline towards the door.

" '_It's charming to see you, darling Alfred, oh how I've missed you!' _" Alfred mocked him, including his accent. He jogged a little to keep up with Arthur, then walked in front of him, turned to face him, and continued to walk backwards.

"You can't do my accent for shit, dearest." Arthur said with a dead pan face and serious tone, as sarcastic as ever, and enjoyed Alfred barked laugh. Arthur smirked a little and let his teeth shine through his grin. When Alfred hit a flag pole whilst walking backwards, Arthur let out a real laugh, to which Alfred responded with a laugh as well.

Both stopped walking, and Alfred was afraid he might start crying since the situation seemed to dramatic because he really, really liked Arthur and he didn't see him a lot which really, really sucked. Alfred sighed and stared at Arthur, and he didn't care that he was probably smiling dopily.

"You look so corny, your smile is extremely cheesy, love." Arthur said with an adorning smile in a light voice. Alfred grinned wider.

"Can't help it, you're just too pretty today." Alfred said smiling, with a dramatic sigh, although he knew, and he hoped Arthur knew too, that he wasn't joking. Arthur looked way too good for being jetlagged from flights and overworked due to that stupid Scottish referendum and EU policies and Arthur complaining for literally _hours_ on the phone about UKIP and France and that he lost something in the tube or forgot a paper and got in trouble at a EU meeting for starting a fight with France and other things that would always be so _Arthur_. His suit was also so Arthur is hurt. It was black and pressed and spotless and probably expensive, although he'd get blood on it from starting a fight with someone, anyway, because he was still so very Empire like and too proud, just like Alfred it too proud, they're both too proud, maybe that's why they fit so well together. The suit makes Arthur looks taller than he is and the skinny tie fits his small frame too well, and it brings out his eyes which were entirely green, not just partially with flecks of brown, _nope_, they were all green. Which made Arthur too pretty all the time, really.

"Shut it, I haven't slept a wink, the plane ride was a mess too." Arthur snapped back, blushing a little at the compliment, which meant that he took the compliment. Alfred mentally high fived himself because it was rare for him to get a chance to compliment Arthur. It's difficult to compliment someone's appearance on the phone.

Arthur moved forward a little and fixed Alfred's tie. Alfred found that he liked the gesture, a lot, because it reminded him of an old couple and he liked to think that they were like an old couple. He grinned.

They fell into an awkward silence.

"We'd best start walking, then." Arthur said, quickly leaning up to brush his lips lightly against Alfred's cheek. Alfred was surprised at the gesture, it wasn't really like Arthur, he liked to kiss him until neither could breathe, which was fine with Alfred, _more_ than fine.

"Heh." Alfred said, tenderly rubbing his cheek, and, for the second time today, jogging to catch up with Arthur.

Other nations started to pile up to enter the building, and with security clearance and security passes and everything, it took a while until they reached the elevator. They squeezed together along with several other nations and employees, Alfred only recognised Roderich and he thought he saw Francis as well, possibly Ludwig and Feliciano as well. Ludwig must have dragged Feliciano out of bed to get him on time. Francis must have woken up ahead his alarm. Europeans.

The tight squeeze in the elevator was too much for the island nation. He could see it on his face, he seemed concentrated. Both he and Alfred were squished at the back. Alfred could see Francis's golden head. It looked shiny, like a wig. Alfred decided Arthur had better hair.

"You okay?" Alfred asked quietly, turning his head down to Arthur, who was on his right in a tense posture.

"It's 'You are okay.'. Not 'You okay'. 'Okay' is not a verb." Arthur replied, with the sass that Alfred missed so much.

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred turned away, careful not to press for an answer too much.

After a short silence, he heard Arthur's voice again, clear as day and a little too loud.

"Smell's of weed."

"True, that." Alfred said equally loud.

"How do you know that?" Arthur stated it as if it were a sentence, not a question.

"'Cause I'm a hero." Alfred said, lengthening the first word.

"Damn straight." Arthur said again, pretending to have an American accent.

From the front of the elevator, Francis slowly turned his head with a smile that reminded Alfred of a sloth and Arthur of the Hundred Year's War. His eyes were scrunched up in a way that was too funny to be true.

Alfred laughed out loud, so loud and so intense that his stomach hurt and his eyes started to water. Arthur gave a little wave and a cocky grin, then chuckled slightly.

When the elevator doors opened, most employees squirmed out, leaving only the nations. It was starting to get slightly awkward, and Alfred tried to calm himself down and cleared his throat. Arthur pulled out his phone, Alfred peered over his shoulder to see who he was texting. He wasn't texting, he was doing that thing that he does whenever he's on public transport or in an elevator or something of the like. He takes out his phone or newspaper, if he was one, which he usually does since he's like an old man, in Alfred's mind, but it's just so _Arthur_ that he loves it because he loves Arthur. Yeah. He really does. Arthur doesn't like going on the subway and stuff because he says he can't handle eye contact with strangers. Too which Alfred replies with 'Damn, you're so British, Arthur!' and Arthur then just gives him a long intense stare.

When the nations reached their floor, the one reserved just for them, even secured with a door were you have to slide your pass through, Alfred always says it reminds him of James Bond to which Arthur replies with a 'You're one to talk, remember the Cold War, dearest?'.

Several other nations were already inside the conference room, which was filled with chairs and placards. There was a large amount of chatting, and Arthur made a beeline to his chair because he wasn't too good with conversation. Small talk, yes, but conversation? Not his thing. Same thing with Alfred really, he always says a 'Haha, cool!' and ruins everything.

Alfred praises God and his many miracles, which is funny since he's not religious, that he's seated in between the United Kingdom and Uruguay. He sets his briefcase on the chair, takes out some papers and his 'USA IS THE BEST 5EVA' pen, an ironic gift from Matthew, then puts the brief case, which is still open, underneath his table. Arthur does a similar motion and takes out multiple papers, and scrambles in his neat, new, shiny briefcase for something. He touches his suit, then goes back to rummaging through his brief case. Then he looks up, thinks a little, and mutters multiple swearwords which would cause the Queen to drop her tea cup.

"What did you lose this time?" Alfred says, swerving his chair to face Arthur.

"I- Nothing!" Arthur says, a little stern.

After a pause, Arthur continues.

"I forgot my pens."

Which is funny since Alfred knows, and so does Arthur, that he always has a pencil in his suit and multiple fancy, expensive pens in his case.

"Oh." Alfred says intelligently.

"Yeah."

"W-Well, you can borrow one." Alfred doesn't know why he's stammering like a school girl. He moves his chair out and looks through his things without taking his bag from under the table. He hands Arthur his 'Maine is the Main Thing to See in the USA!' pen. He has no excuse for this one, he thought of the pun himself and ordered it online.

"Thanks." Arthur moves and sits down.

"Its horrid." Arthur says after some time staring at the pen and Alfred staring at Arthur.

"Thanks." Alfred deadpans with a serious face to Arthur.

"You're welcome, love." Arthur says without moving his eyes from the pen. The nickname makes Alfred blush and push his glasses up his nose. He coughs awkwardly.

Arthur looks up to the other nations, thinking, he's always thinking, Alfred remembers. France seems to have the time of his life chatting to Finland, Austria is talking to Azerbaijan about Eurovision, and Germany is looking over his notes. Awkward as ever. Aren't Europeans supposed to be social? With their borders and- and shit?

Arthur speaks up.

"If you start a fight with Russia again and pull a Cold War, I _will_ hate you."

"Yeah, yeah-"

"NATO."

"What?"

"I said 'NATO'."

"What's with him?"

"He was just proof."

"Of what?"

"You get possessive."

"Hey! I was doing alliances before it was cool."

"Hipster."

"You're an old man, I'm surprised you even-"

Both are interrupted by the Chair speaking up and the debating starting. Today it's Germany, surprisingly, who's volunteered to chair, and Sweden is deputy-chairing.

Alfred silently prays that they won't have to do anything productive.

As soon as the roll call starts, Alfred zones back to Arthur. He realised how close their chairs are pushed. He could rest his leg against Arthur's. He does. Arthur doesn't move, he blushes a little, and keeps his eyes on Germany reading out 'Belarus?' and then Belarus replying with a 'Present.'. She was weird. Weird as fuck. Probably still communist and shit. Weird. Why anyone would _want_ to stay with Russia is beyond Alfred's intelligence. Which was fairly wide, Arthur knew that too. He built Sputnik out of tooth paste caps and has Bill Nye t-shirts. He likes science as much as Arthur likes literature, which is a lot. During the war, when they shared a tent, Alfred received, like all other guys and gals in service, a copy of 'The Great Gatsby'. Arthur had spent months reading the same book and trying to get a new novel to read, with no success. Alfred remembers the look on Arthur's face when he casually asked one night as Arthur had finished reading his novel for the nth time whether he would like his copy of Fitzgerald. Arthur sat up and with surprise and shock asked if he were sure, to which Alfred replied with a 'sure.'. Damn. Arthur still has his copy today. It went through a lot. It was in his duffle bag in that truck when Alfred ran out to help the injured ones, something about a mine or something, and Arthur reached down, grabbed his face, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Alfred stood in shock before Arthur jumped down, forgetting his belongings and ran, brave as he always was and will be, to the men in trouble. Damn.

He snapped out of his daydream when Arthur shouted a 'Present.' and seconds later Alfred copied him, but with his trademark smile. Arthur stared at his face and swooned, internally of course. He exhaled and tried to compose himself. He couldn't- not with the way they were casually leaning towards each other.

"You like the NATO." Alfred whispered to him.

"True." Arthur picked up the innuendo. So did Alfred, bless him, as he smirked at Alfred and pushed up his glasses.

The conference had started, the issue was nuclear disarmament, which was difficult for Alfred, and Arthur too, and a lot of other nations, which is why Arthur was sure to remind Alfred to 'please, _don't_ get blood on your suit it takes me hours to get the stains out, love'.

Alfred smiled at the thought that Arthur would be staying at his today. And tonight. He blushed a little and sighed.

With the first problems rising, the conference was getting loud. Arthur paid close attention to the argument which arose. Russia was condemning the US, a thrilling concept, really, of not following the START agreement. Particularly, as Russia kindly reminded the others several times, 'The delegation has not followed the instructions.'. Oh dear. Arthur turned his head, not moving his body, with his arms crossed and his body still leaning towards Alfred's. Alfred's face was a mix of disgust, anger, and confusion. During the Cold War, and the World Wars, his face was always like that. Also during the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Iraq War, Afghanistan-

Alfred's hand tightly gripped his placard and shot his hand into the air.

"Yes, America? I see you has question." Ivan said from the podium. It wasn't proper protocol, but evidently, the chairs were smart enough to not objectify Russia or America.

"The delegate thinks that- That-" Alfred looked so vulnerable, he was never good with words.

Arthur raised his placard lazily.

"Ah, the United Kingdom too? Yes?"

He stood slowly, for dramatic effect. Alfred was staring at him in confusion.

In a deadpan voice, Arthur said: "The delegation of Russia would struggle to pour water out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel."

Silence. Arthur sat down. Alfred copied him. Ivan took a deep breath. He moved away and sat back down, glaring at the two nations. Francis turned in his chair and nodded with an impressed facial expressed. Matthew struggled to hold his laughter. Alfred was still confused, Arthur composed as ever.

"F-For a moment I thought you'd say 'The delegation of the United States'..." Alfred turned face to face with Arthur. They were almost touching. The thought made Alfred's heart beat faster, the tips of his fingers tingle, and his face head up.

"Don't flatter yourself. It applies to most of the nations here. You forget that the human race is incredibly stupid."

"Does that include you?"

"Of course. I fell in love with you, didn't I?" Arthur said in a straight forward tone.

Alfred had never wanted to kiss anyone this badly.

He had to force his romantic expressions into words, to voice his deep love to Arthur just as he did, he had to-

"Arthur, you ass. I love you."

Close enough.

"You'd better. It'd be terribly awkward." Arthur said with a calm facial expression.

"Yep." Alfred popped the 'p', Arthur found it endearing.

"Yeah." Arthur finishes, tearing his gaze away from Alfred's blue eyes.

Arthur had never wanted to kiss anyone this badly.

He turns and sighs, then scratches the side of his head and raises his eyebrows. He folds his arms and looks at the conference again. Thinking. Arthur thinks too much.

The conference continues for a good hour, until the chairs notice no one is listening, and decide to give everyone a short break.

Praise the Lord, Alfred thinks, ironically, again.

Arthur stands up and Alfred follows.

"Do you want some coffee?" Alfred asks. He asks at every possible chance. He knows Arthur only drinks tea. After all these years, he definitely knows.

"No. You are such a twit, I swear to God..." Arthur replies, walking outside and mumbling.

The two make a beeline to the end of the large room outside of the conference hall. They head towards a set of back stair that lead to the roof top, a sort of terrace with ventilation systems sticking out. It was their secret hide out- not a lot of people know how to get there, it's complicated, but Alfred knows and showed Arthur back when the first meeting was held. Now it's their 'thing'. Arthur likes that they have a thing. It feels like they have a purpose and a routine, which he's sure that they don't, as nations. It's just like that. They go up the stairs in silence, and Alfred opens the door with the very large 'DO NOT OPEN' sign displayed on it.

They move to edge. Arthur digs in his suit pocket for a cigarette carton. He takes out a cigarette and sticks in between his lips. Alfred lights it using his fancy lighter, the metal one, the one he used when he smoked and still does when he needs to light a Bunsen burner to do his awesome experiments in his basement. Alfred stopped smoking when he read in a magazine ages ago that it harms and harms others. The 'harms others' part convinced him. Arthur is not convinced by it, and still smokes. Mainly to _'piss off the EU, she's a bore, too continental'_.

Alfred stands next to Arthur whilst he smokes, leaning against the railing. He seems to observe the view, thinking. The wind blows in his face and he's so beautiful, Alfred could die at the sight.

"Damn." He mutters. Arthur takes a drag from his cigarette, then faces Alfred and says a "What?"

Alfred moves forward and cups Arthur's face, who looks at him with a sort of curiosity that makes him look so much younger than he actually is.

"Just you." Alfred says quietly in a low voice.

Arthur snakes his arms and hands around Alfred's neck, and his fingers tingle and stomach does things that make him feel so vulnerable and raw. Alfred smiles, then moves forward to lightly graze his lips upon Arthur, who slides his eyes closed and sucks air in. He feels like he's about to faint but the feeling isn't entirely unwelcome.

The door behind them slams.

Arthur jumps and pulls away, taking a drag of his cigarette and running his hand through his hair. Alfred coughs awkwardly and pushes his glasses up his nose, then turns around to face the door. He notices its Francis, in a fancy expensive suit, looking important and official, and Alfred feels dorky around him and Arthur looking pristine. Europeans.

"Sorry. I pardon myself, I hope I did not disturb." He says with a knowing smile. He steps towards them and Arthur loudly groans next to him.

"Weather's shit." He says loudly as well. Alfred can tell that he feels uncomfortable.

"Mais oui." Francis replies, standing next to Arthur with his hands in his pockets, who turns and gives him a graceful look. Alfred leans over the railing slightly. Arthur still stands with a straight posture, finishing his cigarette.

"After all these years you still try and make me speak French to you." Arthur says with a sigh.

"It is the language of politics, after all." Francis says with a laugh that reminds Arthur of his Victorian snobbery days.

"Dude-", Alfred snorts, "Not cool. UN's in my place." Francis responds with another laugh, then looks down at his watch, which is shiny and silver and probably cost his government a lot of gap.

"Come, it is time to return to the party." Francis starts to head towards the door.

"Yes, let's please princess." Arthur says and stubs out his cigarette with his shoe. He turns and starts walking.

"Princess?" Alfred says with a loud laugh.

"I mean you. I know you're all big for democracy. Well, this is democracy. It's bureaucratic. Still better than the trenches and rationing , in the long shot, I suppose. " Arthur deadpans, and Francis does the same awkward laugh that sounds too European for Alfred to ever understand.

"Ha ha, I'm dying." Alfred says sarcastically.

"Don't be silly, sarcasm doesn't suit you. Too mature." Arthur responds.

"Hey, what's that supposed-"

"Oh, look, we're here." Arthur interrupts and opens to door to the conference hall, once again. They walk towards their seats, once again. Alfred wonders how often they've done this routine. Very often. He finds he doesn't mind it. Better than the trenches and rationing.

"I'm so mature. I'm older than people live." Alfred continues, with a stubbornness Arthur remembers from a lot of their joint history.

"Yes, that's true. For a colonial upstart." Arthur backfires.

"Come _on_." Alfred says dramatically, and sighs for effect as well. Arthur ignores him and sits down, shuffling his papers, and writing something down with Alfred's pen. Alfred feels oddly warm and fuzzy inside.

After a pause, Arthur speaks up again.

"What did you mean on the terrace?" Arthur turns to face him, arms still on the table.

"Huh?" Alfred replies intelligently.

"On the terrace. You said something along the lines of 'You' when I asked whether you were quite alright." Arthur says slowly, carefully, blushing a little, because he's so full of words but with Alfred it all seems to stop, and he gets more emotional than usually and nervous and strange, but a good kind of nervous and strange, which scares him a little, as it has for years. He still hasn't gotten used to it. He likes that.

"W-well, I was star-looking at you, and the wind and shit was blowing, and... it looked nice. On you. Like the wind in your face. Yeah..." Alfred said the first part very quickly because he as embarrassed because it was Arthur, and _yes, _after all these years he's still embarrassed because it's _Arthur_. Damn. He trailed off, awkwardly finishing. He raised his head, which faced the front, avoiding Arthur's face because he'd blush like a virgin if he'd look him in the eyes and say it. Damn.

Arthur was blushing too, eyes surprised, eyebrows confused, and a ghost of a smile on his lips. Well, he was pleased, and Alfred was pleased to see that he was pleased.

"Ah." Arthur said with a smile and turned his head to not face Alfred, his gaze on the floor.

"Yeah." Alfred complied, moving forward with his chair and moving his papers.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked suddenly, moving his head to face Alfred.

"Yeah?" Alfred said, mirroring his action. They were suddenly very close, inches away. _Arthur has real' nice eyes_, Alfred thought. _Alfred has very pretty eyes_, Arthur thought.

"I'm not going to go back to my hotel other than to get my luggage." Arthur said with a stern look on his face, moving his hand to rest it above Alfred's knee.

"Good. I won't let you do otherwise. That's a promise." Alfred said with slanted smile that Arthur thought should really be illegal to show at conferences. He didn't want any other nations, or anybody, actually, to see it. They would swoon too much like Arthur was.

"Hitler promised not to invade Czechoslovakia." Arthur replied, still looking him in the eyes, with the same calm face.

"_God_." Alfred was lost for words. He gave loud laugh, a real one, which Arthur cherished because he voiced his obnoxious ones too often, to brag and the like.

The other nations slowly calmed down around them, the chairs settling down, and the meeting continued. After some time of listening, understanding, debating and the like, Alfred wrote something on a note and slid it carefully to Arthur.

' _i 3 u! xxx hero'_

Arthur bit back his smile. His mouth felt too dry and his chest too warm. He returned the paper.

'_I 3 you too_.

_also your grammar is really outrageous, who raised you?'_

Alfred read the note, then grinned widely and faced Arthur with a large smile. Arthur smirked and rolled his eyes.

The meeting continued around them, and, as did the other nations, both Arthur and Alfred participated. Alfred was calmed than Arthur would expect him to be when some _'Commie questions my nukes, dude, WTF!', _as he explicitly wrote to Arthur on the note paper shared between them. Alfred also doodled small cartoons on the paper, including sketches of Captain America and Iron Man and other figures that Alfred admired because both he and Arthur knew all too well that comic artists got their main inspiration for Steve Rodgers from Alfred. Alfred was thrilled about the whole thing, naturally, and Arthur embarrassed that they _had_ to make his love interest British, _of course_. The sight of Alfred drawing the familiar faces reminded Arthur of the doodles he did on his official notes during war meetings in London or on scrap pieces of paper in tents. Arthur sighed a melancholic sigh. He leant back and looked up the ceiling. It was speckled and grey and horrible. The lights were too bright.

Neither noticed that the debate was fading, and only snapped back to attention when the chairs called to vote. Arthur looked at the others. He voted what his allies did. Alfred looked at the others. He voted the opposite to what Ivan did.

The committee was released for today, only to continue for tomorrow and the next day. Then Arthur would be back to London after the weekend.

Alfred sighed at the thought.

The nations around them shuffled and quickly left. Alfred slowly got up and stretched, Arthur reached to get his briefcase and gather his belongings.

"So," Alfred prolonged the word, "What do you want to do now?"

"You." Arthur said, without batting an eyelash.

"Wow. I really love you, you know that, right?" Alfred said with a dopy smile and a dramatic sigh.

"'Course I do." Arthur replied with a slight smile. Both started to head for the door and exit the building.

"Today was a long day." Alfred continued.

"Mhm."

"Do you want to get lunch, or something?" Alfred asked, with a charming smile that was slightly tilted.

"Sure."

"Mc Donald's?"

"Only because it's you, love."

"Yep."

"Yeah."

They were alone in the conference room. Even Germany and Sweden had stopped complaining about the amount of litter in public buses during summer or early autumn.

Alfred dropped his briefcase and lunged forward towards Arthur, pressing his lips fiercely against Arthur's, who in turn was pushed backwards against a wall and opened his mouth. He let his briefcase fall as well and put his arms about Alfred's neck, who's hands were around Arthur's waist and cupped his face. Arthur kissed him senseless and possessively because it had been far too long. Alfred drew away before it turned into something that he would have to awkwardly explain to the security guys who watched the camera tape.

"Damn." Alfred mumbled against Arthur's lips.

"Uh huh." Arthur replied.

"I still haven't gotten used to that."

"To what?"

"The way you kiss me senseless. Like it's the last time you'd ever see me."

"Poetic."

"You know it."

Alfred reluctantly started to pull away. Arthur picked up his briefcase. Alfred mirrored him.

"Mc Donald's?" He said to Arthur when they started to walk outside towards the elevator.

"As always." Arthur replied with a attractive smirk. He straightened his tie and pushed the ground floor button.

Alfred lunged at him before the elevator doors closed.

(((4861 words)))

****God bless. My UN experience comes from me doing Model United Nations. The issue is the one I will discuss this year. Also I had to Google the building and it does look like a futuristic cereal box. I'm European leave me be. I tried. This was written very quickly on a whim. Sorry for the lack of detail. Oh and I hope you appreciate the little bit of action they got. Thought I'd let them hanging but nOPE they managed. I also like my Arthurs with the best comebacks and sarcasm. Most of these I saw online somewhere some when. FYI the NATO-Warsaw Pact theory is a thing. I did a report on the Cold War. Totes pro. ****


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